


I Am Going To Give You Such A Scathing Peer Review

by arcaladiwoompa



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Desert Bluffs, M/M, contains some violence but I don't think it's graphic, spoilers up to somewhere around episode 30 or 33
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcaladiwoompa/pseuds/arcaladiwoompa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos meets his double.  Cecil gets to watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Going To Give You Such A Scathing Peer Review

**Author's Note:**

> Ahaha this has been gathering dust on my harddrive for some months and now I'm too embarrassed to reread it. This is my first time attempting to post written porn so please let me know if it's any good.
> 
> *presses the submit button and flees*
> 
> \-----------------

Carlos sat in his kitchen on another hot and dry Wednesday evening, picking distractedly at a plate of reheated leftovers as he allowed the deep bass of Cecil’s voice to wash his workday out of his mind. He remembered when he was still debating within himself whether to accept Cecil’s advances or not. On the one hand, he had still found it strange to hear about himself on the radio after every fleeting conversation, and the prospect of dating a Night Vale resident seemed potentially unsafe considering all the other curiosities that were happening around him every day. On the other hand, he found Cecil’s enthusiasm charming, and his perpetual good cheer in the face of adversity was infectious and far more refreshing than the alternative. After the incident in the miniature city under Lane Five of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, Carlos had come to the conclusion that _everything_ in Night Vale was strange and unsafe, nothing could surprise him anymore, and what the hell, he could really use a little affection after narrowly surviving a volley of tiny projectile weapons. Every time he saw Cecil’s brilliant smile, he knew he had made the right decision.

“Listeners, another child has brought me an important message from City Council. She appears to be about five or six years old, with glossy black pigtails and narrow eyes that are staring straight ahead with an intense focus that has singed a round, bullet sized hole through my favorite red tie. The message is sticking out the front of a stuffed rabbit with velvet entrails hanging out from its abdomen, like a hatchet in a murder victim. Isn’t that adorable? Is anyone interested in taking a child from the radio station, by the way? Wait, never mind, a glowing crack has torn itself through the Station floor and she stepped into it, sinking slowly as if riding an elevator downward. The floor has now conveniently sealed itself, one fewer repair bill for Station Management to take care of. Thank you for being so considerate, City Council! Now let’s see what the message says.”

The broadcast crackled with the sound of rustling paper as Cecil began to read: “This message is to inform you that we have scheduled another sandstorm for Sunday afternoon. All residents are advised to stay indoors, stock up on emergency supplies, and sharpen all of their weapons.”

“Those of you who remember last year’s sandstorm will agree that this is sage advice. Defend yourselves by all means necessary. But please, Listeners, I’d like to remind you to try not to kill your doubles if you can avoid it. They have families too. Horrible families with soulless black voids for eyes, but families none the less. Let them go back to their gore smeared homes.”

Fascinating! Carlos was already planning his next experiment.

***

On Thursday, the shade of the sky varied from turquoise to purple to yawning black void.

“Why is Carlos the Scientist, with his lovely, frizz free mop of shoulder length curls, surrounding a tripod with a barricade of sandbags outside of the Studio window? Let’s have a word from our sponsors while I find out.”

Cecil had his I Will Repeat After You, Verbatim, In About Two Minutes face on. That was perfectly acceptable, because Carlos had already been waiting with his Let Me Tell You About Science face all evening.

Two minutes later, Cecil parroted with obvious disappointment, “Carlos says he is not here for personal reasons. He is, in fact, setting up cameras in several locations to film the upcoming sandstorm this weekend, and the sandbags will act as weights to keep the cameras from blowing away. When I asked if that meant he wouldn’t be free this weekend, he nodded apologetically and gave me a parting kiss on the cheek as if it were a consolation prize.” Cecil sighed with longing. “I wish he were as animated talking to me personally as he is when he’s engrossed in his work, making exaggerated gestures with his clipboard. His whole face lights up, Listeners. It’s terribly endearing.”

***

There was a PTA meeting on Friday, which meant the forecast was Glow Cloud with a 100% chance of small animals. The quill Carlos had taken to using as a writing implement was running dangerously low on food based ink. Carlos spent the bulk of his day extracting a large batch of dark red dye from a pot full of beets, and the bulk of his evening hauling the tiny, stiff bodies of squirrels, rats, pigeons, snakes, tortoises and opossums from his yard to the municipal dead animal pyre. He did not mind missing dinner that night.

***

Carlos spent Saturday out in the blazing sun setting up and calibrating air sampling equipment. After shopping for groceries and throwing in a few canned goods for good measure, just in case, he drank a tall glass of ice water, lay back on his couch and basked lazily in his air conditioning for a while. He played back his voice mail and smiled at the message Cecil, ever hopeful, had left him. “Hello? I just got your message, Cecil. I don’t mind, you can drop by and camp out in my lab while the sandstorm is raging. I’ll still be very busy but I do enjoy your company.”

***

Just as his instruments began to detect increasing wind speeds at the edge of town, Carlos’s doorbell emitted a high pitched howl that completely broke his concentration. He had never been able to figure out how to fix it so that it sounded like a normal doorbell, but both Cecil and the local exorcism contractors had told him there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. Carlos straightened out his lab coat and opened the door. “Hi.”

Cecil smiled and pushed his lab goggles out of the way for a decidedly warmer greeting.

Even after he had caught his breath, Carlos stayed still for a minute, resting against him, nitrile gloved fingers weaving together at the small of Cecil’s back. Carlos was wearing his heavy duty lab coat today, made from thick wool that might have been white ten years ago. Since then it had gathered an impressive variety of stains and burn marks in all shapes and colors. “I’m glad you made it. The wind is starting to pick up. Any later and you would have been caught in the storm, or traffic at least. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be here taking notes on my laptop as the data starts to come in.”

Cecil preferred to sit close to Carlos, watching him work and listening to him narrate his thoughts aloud, mostly to himself. In less than ten minutes the storm was already upon them, engulfing the house in a wall of sound. Wind hissed, whistled and rattled against the walls. It really did feel like camping in a way, as if the world had suddenly grown so small that there was nothing left but this single room and its occupants. Like camping, it only felt cozy and safe until you realized that the only thing separating you from a bear was a flimsy piece of plastic. Although Cecil knew this very well, he briefly allowed himself to slip into a false sense of security.

After a long time sitting his laptop, motionless aside from his typing fingers, Carlos abruptly straightened up and turned toward Cecil. “Did you hear that? It sounds like some kind of electric humming, possibly like a faint vacuum cleaner.” Upon investigation the source of the noise turned out to be a gaping, swirling, black and purple hole that had opened up in the side of the stair case leading up to his bedroom, exactly half way from the ground floor to the second floor. Excited, Carlos rushed to grab all of his remaining cameras and started taking photographs of it all across the electromagnetic spectrum. “Cecil, come here and take a look at this infrared image in my viewfinder. It looks like it’s shaped just like a human, doesn’t it? And it’s moving.”

“Oh _dear_ ,” replied Cecil.

Carlos was beaming with the manic glee that stood right on the borderline between genius and insanity. “I have to see what’s on the other side.”

“Carlos you are very brave, but that is a _terrible_ idea. Don’t you remember what happened in the last sandstorm?”

“Of course I remember. It was on such short notice, I didn’t have the chance to take nearly as many samples as I would have liked. When I studied the cores in my scanning electron microscope I found no statistically significant differences between the top layers and lower layers of sand collected in the path of the storm. I suspect that the grains from the sandstorm ceased to exist after the storm dissipated, but I will need to run a few more tests during to confirm this. The DNA samples I took from Night Vale residents and the corpses of their doubles near Exit 6 of Route 800 were far more interesting. There several key mutations, but I was unable to determine whether this was simply due to the high background level of mutations in this region or whether the phenomenon is specific to the sandstorm.”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it. I’ve been through a vortex just like that one, on air even! It leads to the most awful place you could imagine. Trust me; you do not want to go in there. Carlos are you even listening?” Carlos had his camera hanging around his neck, his lab goggles firmly pulled down over his eyes, his makeshift writing implements in his hands, and half of his body through the portal. “Carlos! Damn it.”

Cecil hurried after him, only to bump right into Carlos an instant later as the scientist stopped right in the middle of the portal to take notes and pictures. The slowly spiraling colors seemed to stretch out in a long tunnel, barely wider in diameter than the top of Cecil’s head. The glowing, immaterial swirls of black and purple beneath their feet slowly twisted and tumbled in a nauseating sort of way that suggested they would need to keep moving their feet in order to keep themselves from tumbling endlessly in a circle as the ground rolled on and on into perpetuity. Instead, the colors swirled around their ankles like mist as something underneath served to keep their weight from sinking. Further along the tunnel, the colors graduated into swirls of pink and white, culminating in a fluorescent white light that Cecil was not eager to explore. “I don’t like this place, Carlos. Let’s get out of here; if tunnel closes we could be stuck in here forever.”

“In a minute.” Carlos bent down and scooped up separate samples of swirling black and purple mist inside tiny glass vials, then buttoned them away in one of the deep pockets of his lab coat. Just as Cecil was hoping he would change his mind and turn around, Carlos got up, walked further down the tunnel and took samples of the pink and white swirls as well. Then instead of hurrying back as Cecil had hoped he would do, he continued forward with confident bouncing steps. “I need to document how the portal looks from the other side.”

“I _wish_ you would reconsider. Do you realize you could meet your double like I met mine? He could hurt you.” Cecil’s voice went high and thin with emotion. “He could _kill_ you. Then I- I don’t- it’s too hard-

“You’re really worried for me, aren’t you?” Wavering at the far end of the tunnel, Carlos weighed Cecil’s words in his mind. A shadow of guilt passed over his face as the balance tipped in the other direction. “But Cecil, if I turn around now, I’ll _never know_ where this tunnel leads. Besides, if I do have a double he could have just as easily crossed into my lab from the other direction. I’ll be careful. I won’t stay for long. And I’ll have you with me.” Secretly Carlos was dying to find out whether he had a double or not and if so, what it would mean. It was slightly worrying to think about whether his extended stay in Night Vale had affected his physiology, but his burning curiosity was far more pressing. He would have to run some tests later. For now, he smiled and beckoned for Cecil to follow him.

Silent but still ill at ease, Cecil caught up in a few long strides and wrapped a protective arm around Carlos’s shoulders. Their feet fell into rhythm as they stepped out into the light. All traces of pink and white vanished, and the world resolved itself into sickly shades of glistening green. Then suddenly, there was air and the miscalculated angle of a staircase where level ground should have been. Carlos wasn’t sure which of them stumbled first and dragged down the other, but he was thankful that Cecil broke his fall as they landed noisily in an ungainly heap with their heads on the floor and their feet halfway up the stairs. “Cecil! Oh gosh I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“Why Carlos, I’m insulted,” Cecil answered cheerfully, “You should know by now that I enjoy falling down the stairs with you far more than the feeling of being trampled by horses.”

“Right, I keep forgetting that you were born without pain receptors.” He helped Cecil back onto his feet, took a few photographs of the opposite side of the portal, then returned to the bottom of the stairs. “That was such a conspicuous entrance I’m sure the Sheriff’s Secret Police would be proud of us. Well then, shall we?”

The staircase led down into a hallway with a door, presumably to the outside, on one end, and a corner at the other. As they rounded the corner of the hall, the room where they were standing resolved itself into a much larger open space. Harsh green light flooded the room from fixtures far above their heads. The floor appeared to be made from white ceramic tiles, meticulously clean aside from a pool of blood seeping from the far door into a ditch at its base. Inside the ditch the blood ran into a drain with a constant, sickening gurgle. A large bookcase dominated the wall on the far left, piled high with stacks upon rows of books, binders, folders and loose pieces of paper. Several entire shelves were blocked off with thick, padlocked metal chains which rattled menacingly as Carlos’s gaze landed on them.

To Carlos’s left, in the center of the closest wall, there was a large desk combined with a filing cabinet. On the desk was a glowing laptop, its bland, color changing screen saver incongruous with the eeriness of the rest of the room. To the left of the laptop was an optical microscope. There was a stack of papers, a drawing tablet and its pen, and several forbidden writing implements neatly arranged on the right. A set of small cabinets were dispersed across each of the walls of the room, each well separated from the others. Their labels read: “ACIDS”, “FLAMMABLE”, “BASES”, “RADIOACTIVE,” “BLOODSTONE ETC.”, and “OTHER” in large red letters.

The center of the room contained several more tables and benches, some of which had white desk lamps on them. Several of these tables contained large instruments, one of which was clearly only partially constructed. Another table right in the center of the room contained the splayed open corpse of a two-headed deer which smelled overwhelmingly of formaldehyde. Various tools and glassware sat in a state of organized chaos all over the tables. An instrument that looked like an oversized telescope was hanging from the ceiling of the far wall, its lens pointed right toward the spot where Cecil and Carlos stood in the entrance hallway. It tracked Carlos’s movements as he stepped further into the room and began to explore everything up close. He stopped by a table which had a single fluorescent ultraviolet light hanging overhead and admired the colorful phosphorescence of a set of rocks displayed there.

“What is this place?” Cecil asked him, frowning at the corpse of the deer. He didn’t like this room, but at least there was less blood and viscera than he expected.

“It looks like a well equipped laboratory. I have to admit I’m not familiar with all of these instruments.” Carlos peered into the microscope and observed, squinting in the green light, something that looked like a slide of a dried microbial sample. “This looks like the smallpox virus. My God, I thought you needed government clearance to research with that stuff even if it’s dead.” Was the owner of this laboratory a government agent? Carlos was starting to share Cecil’s bad feeling about stepping through the portal, but he was too morbidly fascinated to stop investigating. “How can anyone work in such awful lighting?”

“The radio station where my portal led was also lit by green LED lights. It had blood soaking all the walls and floor, and a string of intestines where all the buttons should have been.”

“It looks like someone made an effort to divert all the blood dripping from the ceiling and door to that culvert in the corner. If this were my lab _I_ certainly wouldn’t want a rain of blood to contaminate my experiments.” He wandered over to a refrigerator that was less interesting than the small metal box-shaped device it was plugged into. “Impossible! Nuclear fusion with such a small particle accelerator?”

“Of course it isn’t impossible, _I_ built it after all. It stretches through multiple unseen dimensions,” preened a high, saccharine voice that made the hairs on the back of Carlos’s neck stand on end. Carlos turned around slowly to find… himself… standing at the entrance to the laboratory where he had entered with Cecil minutes earlier. His double was almost identical, from the yellow leather steel toed boots to the exact same stains on his woolen lab coat. “My name is Pablo, and you must be my double. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” Carlos responded automatically before his better judgment had time to catch up. “My name is Carlos.” After all the warnings he had heard about Night Vale residents and their doubles, the politeness was throwing him off.

“I am sure we will conduct many productive experiments together.” It was as Pablo stepped closer in the eerie green light that Carlos noticed that his double’s face wasn’t right at all. There was something uncanny about the insincere grin with elongated sharp canines, and those eyes- sharp and shining black like rapidly cooled volcanic glass. Pupils, irises and sclera were indistinguishable from each other, making it very difficult to tell the exact direction the double was looking in, except when Pablo bent his head to take down a string of notes in his lab journal.

Carlos picked up his pen and followed suit. _Double’s name is Pablo. His voice is as intolerable as the sound of wet glass in a blender, but I shall endure it for the sake of scientific study. I must admit I am slightly jealous of his laboratory._ “Cecil, I’m very interested to know what you see right now. When I listened to your broadcast about the previous sandstorm, you seemed unable to distinguish your intern from her double, but it was different when you met your own.”

Cecil saw two Carloses in this room. THERE WERE _TWO_ CARLOSES IN THIS ROOM. THEY WERE STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER. TWO OF CARLOS. TWO. He had expected to see a malicious desecration of his lover’s face, with a jagged sneer and haunting obsidian eyes, not an exact duplication of every glorious whorl of hair and perfect white tooth. Even the double’s voice sounded exactly like the sweet melody that was his Carlos. The sheer amount of perfection present in this single room made Cecil feel faint. He stood motionless and gaping, awe and adoration plain to read on his face.

“Cecil, did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Carlos smiled fondly and shook his head. _Observation: It appears that each of us only sees and hears our own doubles as different from ourselves. The doubles of others appear identical to their Night Vale counterparts._ “That will do, thank you.”

Pablo’s eyebrows quirked upwards as he took notice of Cecil. “Ah, you must be none other than Kevin’s double. You look so much alike, but your facial expressions are so different.” The double’s grin grew sly and distant. “Yes, Kevin has been here many times before. Not that he ever bothered to look around much even on his first visit. Kevin is a good boy. He is careful to avoid asking the wrong questions.”

 _Observation: My double is in a relationship with Cecil’s double. I am not sure I want to analyze this further._ “Would you mind telling me more about your particle accelerator? How did you build it?”

“The method is top secret, as you may imagine, but I can list a few key ingredients without spoiling the recipe. It begins with a bloodstone circle, a basic necessity for many successful experiments. There are a few robots, and a time accelerating mechanism to speed up construction. I don’t have all day for these things, you know.”

Many Night Vale residents used black magic on a daily basis. Carlos had often wondered what would happen if he actually tried to make use of the bloodstone circle that came with his house, more than the occasional hastily mumbled, hopefully innocuous prayer he threw in to keep the Secret Police from arresting him. “Your method sounds very efficient,” Carlos suggested diplomatically, “but I doubt that the results are repeatable.” _He’s cheating! That asshole actually uses magic to conduct his science experiments!_

“They aren’t repeatable,” the double announced with pride. “That’s what makes them _unique_. It doesn’t matter as long as the experiment works.”

This went against everything Carlos had ever learned about science. “But what about your instruments?” he asked, horrified. “How would you know if your microscope will work every time you use it if it hadn’t been built with the knowledge that a lens can bend light in a predictable way to magnify an image?”

“Yes, I suppose my heat ray in the corner there would be more useful if I could get it to work more than once or twice in succession. Perhaps it will be more predictable after a bit of tweaking and a few more tests.”

_So that’s what that telescope shaped object is._

“Anyhow, microscopes were invented by _other people_ , for use by _everyone_. My experiments are only for my own personal use. I see that you have noticed my pandemic experiment by the way. I am splicing the genes of the smallpox viruses into various strains of the influenza virus for a few… future tests.”

“That’s unconscionable! There is a _reason_ smallpox has been eradicated!”

“I have to agree with Carlos here,” Cecil piped in, “You’re developing a helpful pandemic and you’re keeping it all for yourself instead of sharing it with the government? How selfish.”

Pablo’s smile glistened so brightly, Carlos could almost see it dripping with venom. “Oh perhaps, but it’s fun!” He turned his face back toward his counterpart, eyes darkly twinkling. “Wouldn’t you agree… _Carlos_? Isn’t it thrilling to hold the lives of thousands in the palm of your hand?”

Carlos shuddered involuntarily. His double made his name sound like sweet poison, two syllables tainted with lead. “I saved most of Night Vale from turning into buzzing shadow beings once. All in one night,” he added defiantly. It _had_ been thrilling. He had stayed up until dawn, fueled by nothing but coffee, adrenaline, and the lingering high from his first kiss with Cecil. One by one each attempt had failed, until, delirious with fatigue, he picked up one disassembled, oozing, experimental clock, offered the silent prayer of a man who has all but given up, and wound up the mechanism in the back. The last thing he had heard before he passed out was a loud humming reverberation coming from upstairs. When he picked his way into his bedroom the following afternoon to find a change of clothing, the bloodstone circle in the corner was positively gleaming, each stone like a gem freshly tumbled. He buried the incident in denial and took pains not to go within ten feet of the stones for the next week.

“Saving lives, isn’t that cute? They’re all just going to die anyway, in the end. But _do_ tell me more about your experiments, I saw so many interesting things when I glanced through your laboratory a few minutes ago.”

“Did you touch my experiments!?” Carlos snapped defensively.

Pablo tipped his nose into the air. “Why would I want to do that? Your darling little filming project looks so boring and useless. I don’t see what you could possibly find interesting about ultraviolet photographs of sand. Besides, it’s not like you’re generating any _new_ knowledge. I’m sure the government knows how sandstorms work perfectly well already.”

“ _Your_ experiments are an unethical and unreliable menace to society and you ought to be dragged away to the old abandoned mine shaft. The best thing _you’ve_ ever done is make a pile of rocks glow. Ooh look, I can turn an ultraviolet lamp on, doesn’t that make me _special_!? Go drown in your own slime, you hagfish.”

“You and your ‘ethics’. Tell me, is the reason why you stick with such boring experiments because you’re too scared to use your own bloodstone circle?”

“Are you, perhaps, overcompensating for something with that giant heat ray?”

“Suck my dick and find out, you lamprey.” Forgotten in the background, Cecil closed his eyes, swallowed convulsively, and tried very hard to reeducate away the image that had presented itself unbidden in his mind’s eye. “Oh by the way, I just _may_ have accidentally powered down your laptop. Hope you weren’t using it for anything important!”

Carlos finally lost it completely. “Son of a BITCH!” He launched himself at his double, snarling, fists flying, blood rushing in his ears. Having anticipated the move, Pablo easily dodged him. As his momentum carried Carlos forward beyond his control, Pablo grabbed hold of his shoulders and slammed him into the wall. The camera around his neck swung to the side and hit the wall with a sharp crack. Carlos felt his breath rushing out all at once. There was nowhere he could stagger away to as he gasped for air. Pablo landed an easy, painful, punch in his gut. The camera strap slid right off of his neck as the hit doubled him over. After another solid punch to his jaw, Carlos finally recovered and gave him a solid kick in the shin. As his double accidentally stepped on the camera, tripping backward, Carlos sharply jabbed his elbow into the other man’s back to topple him the rest of the way. Pablo deftly rolled away from Carlos’s kick and scrambled back to his feet.

Pablo grabbed for his shoulders again, but this time Carlos caught him by the sides with both hands and slammed him against the wall instead. They struggled against each other, flipping sides in turn, until Carlos began to grow dizzy and out of breath. Pablo off Carlos’s lab goggles, knocked his glasses away, and stepped on them with a maddening crunch. Carlos hissed and sank his teeth into his double’s shoulder. Pablo pulled his hair. Carlos yanked _his_ goggles off too, and flung Pablo’s glasses somewhere into the far corner of the lab.

The sounds of the struggle brought Cecil back to reality, watching with morbid interest as the two Carloses clawed at each other. They seemed to be evenly matched, and while he had been clearing his head he had completely lost track of which one was which. One of the Carloses gained the upper hand and tackled the other to the ground. Cecil had been hesitant to act, but now he sprang into action, pulling off whichever Carlos was on top and pinning him to the ground until he stopped struggling. “Don’t kill each other!” It was difficult to ignore how good this felt, but Cecil had known Carlos to be nothing but kind and gentle and was sure that his Carlos would have stopped struggling much sooner. “Carlos, are you alright?” He asked to make sure.

“I…yeah,” answered a breathless voice on his right.

Cecil risked a glance over at the real Carlos and smiled at him. Carlos was red-faced and lying on his back with his chest heaving. His hair was in complete disarray, and- “Oh.”

Carlos cleared his throat and artfully rearranged his lab coat. They needed to get out of here before the portal closed.

Pablo took advantage of this moment of distraction and bit Cecil on the neck, _hard_. Carlos drank in the way Cecil’s eyes glazed over and a shiver ran through his whole body, the way Cecil’s hands tightened on the double’s wrists but the rest of his body went slack, the way his double flipped Cecil over so easily, wedged a knee between Cecil’s thighs and rubbed it up and down against his groin, the way Cecil gasped and conveniently forgot to resist and _this was not helping._ “Get your grimy claws off my boyfriend,” Carlos growled with a flash of teeth as he crawled up next to Pablo and body-checked him aside to take his place.

“Carlos,” Cecil half whispered, half pleaded, squirming a little.

Now lying on his back beside the two of them, Pablo merely stretched out on the floor and casually folded his hands behind his head. “Are you sure you want me to do that?” He purred slowly, eyes roving southward.

Cecil was staring at his face, looking slightly embarrassed, slightly uncertain, slightly apologetic, and mostly like he was dying to grab Carlos’s ass. Pablo was staring point blank at Carlos’s crotch. Carlos swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous and exposed. Okay, uh, yeah. He needed to think about this for a minute. After a heated moment of silence he arrived at a decision. “Cecil,” he murmured, “What do _you_ want?”

“Can I watch?” Cecil blurted out immediately.

“ _Oh God._ When you put it like that I- Yes.”

Pablo’s shark grin sliced right into his voice. “Carlos, you liar. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking of it this whole time!”

“Pablo, you smug bastard. Do I have to make you shut up?”

“Possibly.”

He _could_ , but that would involve awkwardly shuffling over to Pablo, who looked disinclined to lift so much as a finger, on his hands and knees. “Ah, you can wait.” Instead, he sprawled out and started making out with Cecil until his head was swimming with oxygen deprivation. By the time he was finished, asses were thoroughly grabbed, shirts were unbuttoned, and they both had goofy smiles on their faces. “As you can see,” Carlos panted, “I had some very important business to attend to first.”

Pablo hadn’t moved from his spot, but he did look impatient and rather put out. Beaming, Carlos eventually did shuffle over to him while occasionally throwing moon eyed glances back at Cecil. Cecil wiggled his fingers back at him. Pablo rolled his eyes. Draping himself over his double’s stomach and grabbing great fistfuls of his perfect curls, Carlos mashed their lips together far too gently for Pablo’s taste. He stripped off Carlos’s lab coat and shirt, turned his head away and bit down on Carlos’s shoulder in retaliation. With Carlos’s knees already going weak, Pablo found it effortless to roll him onto his back again. Carlos seemed too relaxed to mind. Oh, he was going to fix that soon enough.

Perhaps it was unwise to feel so safe with his double. No- it was Cecil he felt safe with. Cecil would surely step in if Pablo stepped too far out of line. As Pablo loomed over him it occurred to Carlos that his double’s lab coat was blocking the view. Pablo made no move to restrain his hands as he reached up to undo all the buttons and peel it off his shoulders. The evil scientist was wearing a long sleeved plaid shirt underneath. It may have been red and blue, but in the glare of the green LED lights overhead it simply looked awful. Carlos made a face and tugged that off too. “You really need to get rid of this mood lighting.”

Pablo felt no desire to discuss Desert Bluffs city ordinances with him. He attacked the hollow where Carlos’s neck and shoulder joined with scraping teeth. Carlos shivered, starting to wonder why no blood had been drawn. Then Pablo dug his fingers into the tender muscles at Carlos’s sides. Carlos twitched a little; he was onto something. Did he have those same sensitive spots right under his ribs, Pablo wondered? Now _that_ was an experiment worth trying. He pretended to search for it, roughly exploring downward along his double’s sides and behind to the back of his shoulders. Several lazy seconds later he abruptly went in for the kill. Carlos rewarded him with a short, bright cry of pleasure, echoed shortly afterward by Cecil. Both voices darted straight to his groin. The smug grin has found its way back onto Pablo’s face.

Carlos’s eyes fluttered closed and blinked blearily open by turns. He was still trying to return Cecil’s gaze, watching as the broadcaster slipped out of his shirt. Pablo was becoming increasingly distracting. Hands were digging relentlessly, deliciously in to his sides – How did he _know_? – and did not stop as his double sat back and began to rock against his hips, forceful yet maddeningly slow. Carlos ground up against his double, matching his speed and force, bringing his hands up to explore Pablo’s chest and stomach. He was aware that Pablo was trying to goad him into losing control. Not yet, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not even for Cecil.

Let Cecil keep watching, he was clearly enjoying the show either way. So much so in fact, that if Carlos focused enough on the sounds coming from his immediate left, he could easily discern the faint yet distinctive rhythm of rustling fabric and a few quiet huffs of breath. He was suddenly very, very interested in what Cecil was doing to the point where he could barely feel Pablo’s touch. Carlos tilted his head to look Cecil straight in the eye. The speed of Cecil’s palm against the tent in his pants was in perfect synchrony with Carlos’s hips. As he met Carlos’s gaze Cecil jolted visibly, eyelids heavy with lust, mouth hanging slightly open. Carlos let his own eyelids droop and let his head fall back. He yanked Pablo downward and arched into him harder.

Just as the remainder of his clothing was starting to feel really uncomfortable, Pablo stopped Carlos by grabbing hold of both wrists, pinning them above his head, and leaning in to pry his mouth open with his tongue. The sudden loss of contact made Carlos growl but he accepted the shift with no further complaints. It occurred to him as he engaged in an impassioned tongue wrestling match with his double that he had completely lost control of his experiment and his life. Wait no, scratch that. He already lost control of his life in the best way possible the moment he met Cecil. Bless his fried and battered heart.

Carlos pushed his tongue up behind Pablo’s front teeth, exploring edges that were much flatter to the touch than they had been to his eyes. Only the canines were remotely pointy. Interesting… Did that mean Cecil’s view of Pablo’s appearance had been correct and his own was some kind of strange projection? How did his double see him? What about the eyes? Would they look the same in photographs? He briefly entertained the idea of reaching for his notebook or camera, whichever one was closer. Then Pablo jammed a hand down the front of Carlos’s pants.

It almost _hurt_. Pablo’s grip was too tight; his pants were too tight; the friction was overwhelming. Still molesting his face, Pablo greedily swallowed the moan Carlos had allowed to escape in his surprise. Carlos managed to free his wrists from above his head but his double wouldn’t let him get near either of their zippers, so he slid his hands inside the back of Pablo’s belt instead. He kissed with renewed vigor. He groped and squeezed, and when Pablo made no move to protest, he managed with some difficulty to maneuver one hand around to curl into the space between Pablo’s legs from behind. 

Emitting an embarrassing squeak, Pablo bit down on his tongue in retaliation. Carlos refused to relent, pressing in lower and deeper until Pablo broke off the kiss, gasping for breath, and leaned back into his hand. He kept pressing his advantage, reaching between them to undo Pablo’s jeans while he wasn’t looking. Properly fondling him was much easier from this angle. Carlos hummed happily as he threw off Pablo’s rhythm with a series of fast, firm strokes with one hand and pulled his own pants and briefs down just enough to taste freedom with the other. “That’s what you get for neglecting yourself,” Carlos purred. “You look good like this. Come here, Heat Ray. I just might take you up on your offer.” He could hear a hitch in Cecil’s breath.

In one fluid motion, Carlos grabbed Pablo by the ass, pulled him forward and yanked his pants down to his knees. Pablo was reeling a little. He wasn’t sure his double was serious until Carlos pulled down again, lining him up dick to mouth. Carlos gave him one curiosity filled little lick at the very tip like it was come kind of warm up test. Pablo shivered. He _knew_ he was going to lose his composure like this and it made him angry. Naturally he took it out on his double. Pablo thrust forward before Carlos looked ready, eyes widening as Carlos managed the whole length of him in one go. Insistently Carlos groped between Pablo’s legs from behind again. This time Pablo did not resent his strangled cry. This time Cecil echoed _him_ , and that made him feel very full of himself. Carlos pulled him backward and forward into a steady rhythm, only stopping every so often to inhale a few big gulps of air.

Cecil’s voice unabashedly dissolved into the most _gratifying_ string of noises from the back of his throat, little whimpers bracketing every wet slurp of skin like punctuation. Carlos was absolutely intoxicated by him. His hips bucked into nothing as Pablo bucked wildly into his throat, grunting. Pablo’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Sweat rolled down his forehead in beads. Carlos couldn’t see Pablo’s face, but he was vividly imagining how this looked through Cecil’s eyes. He moaned from deep inside his chest and was pleased to feel a strong twitch from Pablo’s erection in response. Humming, Carlos sucked extra hard. A hint of bitter warmth hit his tongue as Pablo screamed.

At this point Carlos had to pull away to catch his breath again, barely managing to restrain his double’s movements as he did so. One would think it was taking a whole lot longer than a couple of seconds the way Pablo was yelling and roaring at him. By the time Carlos was ready Pablo was frantic, losing rhythm with every thrust. Carlos kept time for him at a breakneck speed. With a little nibble he crooked a fingertip into a certain ring of muscle, and Pablo was gone.

Pablo collapsed onto his side, chest heaving. Carlos discreetly spat away from him, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then scooted up to let Pablo tip over onto him and rest a head on his shoulder. He only realized how weird it was to cuddle his double once it was already happening. Then Carlos decided he didn’t care. He reached up to pet the graying fuzz at Pablo’s temple. He wasn’t too far from completion himself, but he preferred to wait for Pablo to reciprocate rather than taking care of the problem right away.

Apparently so did Cecil. As Carlos glanced over he noticed that his utterly naked boyfriend was wearing a strained expression, resolutely leaning back on his hands even as he softly chanted the words “Please, please,” and “Carlos” over and over again.

“ _God_ , Cecil,” he groaned, overcome by a strong surge of desire. “You’re the hottest mess I’ve ever seen.” He began to push away from Pablo but Cecil stopped him.

“Wait! Oh _Carlos_ , I want- I wasn’t finished watching yet.”

“Good,” Pablo growled thickly, possessively depositing himself back on top of Carlos. He realized the rest of his clothing was getting in the way and divested himself of it. Next to go were Carlos’s steel toed boots and socks with a DNA pattern embroidered up the sides. Goodbye, lab appropriate closed-toed footwear! Pablo impatiently peeled Carlos’s pants off with his hands, but the businesslike white briefs came off slowly with his teeth.

Carlos giggled, “Sorry I don’t have any sexier lingerie.” 

“I think your briefs are sexy!” Cecil chimed in.

“Thank you, Cecil!”

Pablo flipped them both off.

Freshly exposed skin gave him new territory to explore. Grabbing hold of both feet, Pablo licked and bit his way up from ankles to inner thigh and back down the other side. To his left Carlos could hear Cecil sighing as he returned to a steady pace, his touches deliberately too light to satisfy. Pablo crawled back up, leaning forward, hovering over Carlos’s thighs. For a long moment he stayed frozen that way, fixing Carlos down with a hungry stare. Carlos had goose bumps. His skin prickled with anticipation like air before a lightning strike.

Pablo leaned in; Carlos felt the contact before it even happened. Lips. Tongue. Saliva. Heat. Movement. Before long Carlos let himself groan along to the tempo, hips trying to thrust upward against the force of Pablo’s hands pinning him down. With a wicked glint in his eye Pablo took this as a cue to slow down to a geologic pace. He pulled back, readjusted Carlos’s legs and resettled himself across them so that he would no longer have to use his hands to keep Carlos where he wanted him. Instead he lightly caressed his double’s scrotum as he licked stripes up and down his shaft, teasing. After a time he settled at the very tip, sucking and swirling the flat of his tongue along it. Carlos cried out in desperation; his leg muscles tightened as he tried to arch upward. Pablo humored him. He sped up, bobbing up and down, but soon afterward he backed off to nothing more than a single thumb toying with the slit in Carlos’s foreskin.

Carlos _screamed_ for him. At this rate Pablo was sure he would be ready for another round soon. He waited until Carlos’s volume died down and turned into a volley of insults directed at him instead. “What’s that?” Pablo talked over him in a sing song voice. He was having way too much fun. “I can’t understand what you mean.” Pablo waited until Carlos ran out of breath before he continued. “Tell me what you want.”

“You know _exactly_ what I mean, you misfiring neuron!”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Pablo tutted. “Say it _nicely_.”

“Go _faster_ ,” gasped Carlos.

Pablo rubbed his thumb faster along the tip. “You mean like this?”

Carlos’s eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to thrust up again. “Agh… no!” He cried out at Pablo stilled his thumb completely; it was frustrating but easier to talk after the sensation of loss had passed. “That’s not enough! I-“ Carlos swallowed, knowing Pablo was going to drag it out of him. “I want your mouth on my dick.” He closed his eyes, feeling rather ridiculous, but Cecil was eating it up, his cries growing louder and louder.

Pablo’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Doing what?”

“Sucking me off,” he groaned, driven half mad by Cecil’s voice.

As Pablo enthusiastically obliged, Carlos’s shouts of pleasure drowned him out completely. His hands fisted in Pablo’s hair, pulling hard without even realizing it. The pitch of his voice rose into anguished wailing, mere background noise compared to the sound of Cecil moaning his name again and again. Just as white sparks were forming at the edge of his vision Pablo pulled off of him completely, pumping at himself furiously as his eyes drank in the utter ruin he had created. “You forgot to say ‘please’.”

Carlos howled a litany of curses in Spanish at him until his voice went hoarse. Seconds later Pablo came to the sound of him begging like a broken record. “That’s more like it.”

Carlos hardly heard him as the screams from Cecil’s orgasm sent him over the edge.

***

Bliss was rapidly fading into a thousand dull aches. A bruise here, a bite mark there; he may have strained a muscle or two. Carlos lay very comfortably in the middle of a heap of limbs, feeling particularly disinclined to move. At some point before his mind had managed the hike back to conscious thought from a soup of primordial ooze he had rolled over onto Cecil and snuggled up against him on pure instinct. Pablo had taken the liberty of draping himself over both of them. He frowned at the sensation of warm skin unsticking itself from his back, inviting in an unwelcome rush of cold air. He did not open his eyes.

Pablo was already shrugging his lab coat over his shoulders. “Would the two of you be so kind as to donate a blood sample for my experiments?” The double asked in a light conversational tone. Somehow he didn’t sound even remotely sluggish. “Naturally I am only asking to be polite. It isn’t as if you really have any choice in the matter.”

“I never mind when I don’t have a choice about something,” Cecil sighed dreamily. “It’s much better that way.”

“Mmm,” Carlos grunted noncommittally. At this point, he really didn’t care as long as he didn’t have to get up just yet. He let his arm hang limply as Pablo took hold of his hand, feeling so relaxed that he barely registered the pinch of a needle. Moments later Cecil shifted weight beside him as he presumably went through the same procedure.  
“Ah yes, excellent. Thank you.” Pablo stored the samples away in a small refrigerator. He paused for a moment to write down a few notes. This was followed by the sound of tearing paper. “Now, gentlemen, it’s getting rather late, so I suggest that you go home.” He picked up the far flung remaining possessions of his guests from the floor and unceremoniously dumped them all over his counterpart’s face.

Carlos flipped him off and reluctantly peeled himself away from Cecil. Without getting up he arched up off the ground a bit to pull his pants back up over his hips. Pablo sat on him before he could discern whether the arms of his shirt were inside out or not, catching him by surprise. The double bent down for one last hearty kiss, sliding something rectangular into the right hand pocket on Carlos’s ass. Carlos followed with his eyes as Pablo crossed over to the opposite side of the room.

Pablo pulled a lever on the wall. Suddenly the floor fell away beneath Carlos. “Come back and visit me sometime!” Pablo’s voice trailed away as gravity took over. Before he could figure out which way was up Carlos had slid down a chute with Cecil and landed on his back in the sand coated front lawn that looked, from the outside, very much like it could have been his own house, only Cecil’s car was missing from the driveway. Carlos hurriedly slipped back into his shirt. Once he was fully dressed he checked the pockets of his lab coat to make sure the vials of vortex material were still there.

“Ouch.” Yep, they were there all right. One of the shattered glass shards cut into his index finger. Cecil took hold of his hand and lovingly kissed it better. It felt rather silly, but it helped cheer Carlos up a little. The lens and screen on Carlos’s camera were cracked, and something rattled inside as he picked it up. He silently prayed that the SD card inside it was still intact. Carlos flipped through his lab notebook; it was now thoroughly soaked in a blot of homemade beet ink. His writing implements were nowhere to be found.

“Oh Cecil,” Carlos croaked unhappily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His vocal chords were going to need a few hours to recover fully. “I should have listened to you and stayed home. He _ruined_ my experiment and it took me _days_ to set it up. My last thirty days of lab notes are illegible, I think my camera is broken, and I can’t see with out my glasses.” He looked up and searched Cecil’s slightly blurry face. “Are you hurt at all? Did I make you worry too much? I’m sorry.”

Cecil leaned in to nip at the shell of his lover’s ear. “Carlos.” His voice dropped to low, intimate murmur. “I feel so good right now, that was _really hot_.”

“ _God_ yes.” Carlos whispered. His skin was still alive with the ghosts of every touch. He closed his eyes for a moment, drew a deep breath through his nose then examined the object Pablo had thrust into his back pocket. It was a beet-stained page from his own lab notebook with the words “Call me! ” scrawled in messy blue handwriting across the top. Carlos wouldn’t have been able to use the paper anymore either way, but the fact that Pablo had torn it from his notebook still grated on his nerves. To top it all off, the space underneath the legible writing where he would normally expect to see a phone number was covered in rows of subtly glowing glyphs that left spots at the back of his eyes if he stared at it for too long. Carlos frowned at the folded sheet with distaste. As tempted as he was to crumple up the paper and litter Pablo’s front lawn with it, Carlos let his curiosity get the better of him and handed it to Cecil instead. “Any idea what this says?”

“It’s a bloodstone circle incantation.”

Carlos smacked one hand against his forehead. “Arrrgh, I should have guessed. Go on.”

A tiny curl of smoke rose up from the page as Cecil read from right to left, his index finger tracing across the page. “Sacrifice a small bowl full of chicken hearts- Oh, how quaint! We’ve been using this one since before telephones were invented. -A sprig of rosemary and one lock of your own hair tied in a knot. Walk clockwise in a full circle while humming continuously in B flat. Speak the name of the party you wish to contact. Repeat the name as if you are trying to wake someone from a deep slumber until a connection is established.”

“What an asshole. I’ll bet he has a _real_ phone number, he just thinks it’s funnier to make me go through all this extra trouble instead.”

“He’s a beautiful, perfect asshole with a beautiful, perfect ass.” Cecil smirked.

“Unfortunately I can’t deny that.”

Cecil stepped closer and grabbed hold of his hand. “Let’s go home.”

Blushing darkly, Carlos returned the sheet to his pocket. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to use it, but he was glad that Cecil didn’t question him. When he looked up into Cecil’s eyes all he saw there was a reassuring smile. Carlos smiled back at him and fell into step.

Pablo’s house was already out of sight when he remembered something vital. “Oh shit, the portal!” Carlos exclaimed.

“Even if we could go back inside, I’m afraid it’s long gone, darling. The sandstorm is over.”

“How are we going to get home? Please don’t tell me we have to take the subway.” Carlos still hadn’t figured out a safe and effective way to study the effects of travel through the soul crushing central node of Night Vale’s subway system and besides, he still did not find cockroaches appealing. Not even the sentient ones. “Are we even in Night Vale?”

“This _looks_ like your neighborhood, but we both know that can’t be right. I don’t know, maybe we stepped into an alternate dimension.”

“Great,” Carlos sighed. Then he remembered who he was with. “Do you think we could hail a cab?”

“Interdimensional taxis are pretty expensive, Carlos. I don’t have much more than pocket change on me right now. How about you?”

Carlos fumbled in his pockets. “I have three dollars and fifty five cents. Are interdimensional buses expensive?”

“Sweetheart, you know interdimensional buses don’t exist.”

“Yes, of course. Let’s have a look around then, maybe we’ll at least find someplace to ask for directions.” His body felt heavy and tired. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to walk too far.

They wandered through the town, hand in hand, gazing at the buildings and streets that appeared so similar to Night Vale, yet so off. There was a pizza place next door that was not Big Rico’s, where the patrons sitting by the window were apparently allowed to eat wheat. Carlos quickly turned his head away, feeling both hungry and terrified. That is, until they came across the tower of battered dead bodies all heaped up on top of each other in the parking lot, much less covered in sand than everything else. Faced with fresh evidence of the sandstorm’s passing, Carlos lost his appetite immediately. Further down the street, they had to pick their way around a series of corpses in order to go any appreciable distance.

“Hey Pablo, Kevin! Great to see you! Isn’t it a lovely evening for a walk? Looks like the Glow Cloud has some competition, right?” Carlos startled a bit as he realized that the overly cheerful voice was talking to him. _Think fast, Carlos, it’s probably better if they don’t find out._ He subtly nudged Cecil in the ribs as he gingerly stepped over some poor sod’s dead double. Looking up at his double’s neighbor, he moved to push up his glasses on his face only to remember that they weren’t there.

“It’s terribly inconvenient,” Carlos replied, trying to sound conceited and unfazed.

Cecil took the hint. He had no idea what his double was supposed to sound like, but he pulled on the neighbor’s cheerful tone like a new outfit and ran with it. “Now Pablo, don’t be a spoil sport. The government has outdone themselves this year! I’m sure the city crews will be along to tidy up our streets in no time.” Chills ran up Carlos’s spine, and he fought against the recently developed instinct to make a mad dash for the nearest fallout shelter. “You’re just grumpy because you misplaced your glasses.”

The neighbor looked them over for a disconcertingly long time. “Have you met your doubles then? I bet you just couldn’t help feeling productive as soon as you caught sight of each other, even though it’s the weekend.”

“Why yes, he was so hard at work that even I helped him with some experiments,” Carlos heard Cecil say through the blood rushing in his ears. How had he made that sound so _innocent_?

“You look rather flustered Pablo, are you hurt?” The neighbor was beginning to catch on. Carlos nudged Cecil to get him moving again. “My double helped me up after I fell down a few stairs,” he fabricated. “Well, it’s was nice seeing you, enjoy the rest of your day.”

Carlos pulled Cecil after him by the hand, struggling to keep his steps as a casual stroll. They walked past a group of children playing in the street, kicking what turned out to be a severed head around in the dust. “Cecil I think I’m going to be sick,” Carlos hissed.

“Keep walking,” Cecil whispered, rubbing comforting circles into his shoulder.

They climbed up a hill to get a better view of their surroundings. From here he could see a faintly glowing, jagged green line near the horizon. Could that be Radon Canyon? The red lights of a tall radio tower blinked in the distance, and it was not Night Vale Community Radio. Finally no other locals appeared to be within earshot. Carlos breathed a huge sigh of relief as he sat down at the crest of the hill. “Damn you’re good, Cecil. I can’t believe we pulled that off. I don’t even know what your double is _like_ , and there you are talking about Street Cleaning Day without even a twitch on your face.”

“Oh Carlos, thank you!” Carlos felt momentarily disoriented as he was squished into a tight hug in the very next instant, with Cecil’s face nuzzling into his neck. He kept forgetting how overwhelming the force of Cecil swooning over him could be.

Suddenly Cecil grew tense. “ _I should have known!_ ” He sounded exasperated.

“What is it?” Carlos turned his head toward the white blob Cecil was looking at and squinted.

“Would you like to hear the good news first or the bad news first?”

“Start with the good news.”

“We’re not in another dimension.”

“That’s fantastic! But then what’s the bad news?”

“The water tower,” Cecil intoned gravely.

“I can’t see that far, Cecil.”

“It reads: Welcome to Desert Bluffs.”

Carlos had never been to Desert Bluffs before. “So that’s what all the fuss is about. I’d like to get one clear look at this place before I leave and never come back. Can I borrow your glasses?”

“Certainly, I’m sure you would look adorable in them.”

Carlos tried them on and blinked. The world came into sharper, headache-inducing not quite focus, with all the colors of the visible spectrum inverted. He took them off and put them on again, and the second time the world looked as if he was seeing it through a soap bubble. On his third try everything was tinted slightly pink with thin halos of light around the edges. It was at this point that Carlos realized he was getting distracted and he shifted his attention toward the water tower instead. He still couldn’t see very clearly, but it was enough to make out the fuzzy outlines of the large letters in the distance. _Definitely not my prescription, but these will do for now._ “Remind me to do a thorough analysis of your eyes and your optometrist later, Cecil.”

Cecil kissed him on the cheek. “I love it when you want to study me.”

“In fact, would you do me a favor and drop me off at the optometrist tomorrow? I can’t drive until I get a new pair of glasses.”

“Honestly, Carlos! As if I would pass up the chance to see you again tomorrow!”

“Thanks, Cecil.” Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

His hand was affectionately petting the short, fuzzy hair at the back of Cecil’s head and neck, but Carlos’s mind was preoccupied with a mental survey of their immediate surroundings. A nearby row of houses were festooned with long strings of entrails which hung from the eaves like morbid Christmas lights. One house across the street was decorated with tacky lawn ornaments and a few limbless torsos speared on top of a pike. The freshly deposited sand underneath was stained red with dripping blood. “Okay I’ve seen enough.” Carlos handed Cecil’s glasses back to him in a hurry.

In the end, they took a perfectly ordinary, mostly empty bus home to Night Vale. Carlos sat very close to Cecil, leaning his head on his shoulder, with his arms wrapped around his waist. He felt as though someone had filled all his bones and replaced his eyelids with lead. Both he and Cecil were silent as the bus rumbled down the street. Before long their stop arrived and they disembarked onto the sidewalk.

“Cecil?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever had the sudden, overwhelming urge to booby trap your own house?”

“Of course not, Carlos. I know where Steve Carlsberg lives.”

***

“Good afternoon Desert Bluffs! Did any of you meet with your doubles again yesterday? Did you spend a relaxing weekend day making friends with each other? Pablo, our community’s most esteemed scientist and my special friend, called me up to tell me that not only did he meet with his own double for the first time, but he also met _my_ double. Isn’t he so lucky? I wish I could have been there.”

“Pablo showed them around his laboratory. They told him they were from Night Vale. I would have asked them if Night Vale is really as beautiful as I imagine it, but Pablo says they were so busy talking about science that it never came up. That is so typical of you, Pablo! He says they were both very friendly and helpful, and the most polite people you could ever meet.”

***

“Listeners, I have just received a very important report from Carlos with the official letterhead of his research organization right at the top and his signature underneath. Most of the page is empty, but every letter in the center is capitalized, bolded and underlined. Surely this note must contain an invaluable nugget of scientific wisdom.”

“It reads: DESERT BLUFFS SUCKS.”


End file.
